


Forsaken

by RheaofSaturn



Series: Outlaw Justice [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: How it all began, Lots of Secrets, Raphaels got this, The Big Moment, falling., lots of plotting, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RheaofSaturn/pseuds/RheaofSaturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Raphael makes a choice that has great consequences. She's aware of them. All of them.</p><p>~Sometimes Gabriel is a little bit slow on catching on, but when he starts using his brain, well,... realizations happen.</p><p>~Uriel muses about her siblings, changes and whats to come. She's a smart cookie.</p><p>~Michael...and the end of the rope.</p><p>~Raphael runs into a small problem and makes another choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Praemonitor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Praemonitor/gifts).



> Well, this happened. I was working on my other fic and this scene decided to take over and demanded to be written. And I like the thought of Lucifer's siblings having a reason for not defending him. They are siblings, surely it would take more than one mistake for them to turn on him. 
> 
> Great thanks to Praemonitor, Devil's Advocate is a great inspiration for me and always sparks new ideas and scenes. This is the result of one such spark of inspiration.

A flicker of a second is all that it takes for Raphael. Just one implausibly short flash of insight. Understanding growing out of a seed, the future unfolding before her very eyes in those few flickers of time between Samaels demands and Fathers silence. Reality and Future overlapping, first only a few minutes ahead, just enough for her to hear orders that have not been spoken yet ringing in her ears. 

Samael is to be cast down into the Underworld. Banished and condemned for all time. Those are Fathers final orders, his final words.

Raphael disagrees. Wholeheartedly. 

And yet… and yet, sword still brandished and her very being prepared to defend her brother, to stand at her rightful place and fight, she see's the future evolve, speed up, accelerate with only few pit stops in between. A gruesome picture that paint itself in all the colors of free will. Choices and opportunities racing forwards, chance and fate dancing around each other with blissful ignorance. Higher and farther away, soaring on hope and believe.

None if it matters. None of them are there. Exist anymore. The future is bleak, muted. Empty and without purpose. Dead.  
Micheal, felled by his fathers hand, Gabriel, torn apart by beings stronger, faster, better than any of them will ever be. Uriel, a broken, blubbering mess dragged away by the hounds of hell, commanded by Heaven's new warriors. Samael, dead by his own sword. Raphael, battling these new fighters Father has created, with stubborn pride and desperate rage, her own death only minutes away.  
Images flash by, grim and devastating, blood spilled and deaths, so many deaths. So much lost fighting for the mere chance at freedom, just a taste of this elusive thing that humans have been gifted with. 

It's not worth it. Not like this. Not when the price is paid in death and blood soaking into the ground. Not when it cost her siblings lives. Not when her twin dies.

No.

Fathers gaze is unforgiving and his anger is sharp and punishing. He will not see reason, will not listen to her, no matter her assigned duty as adviser. And Michael, his face is unmoving, free of emotion, but his eyes, they are full of sorrow, of betrayal and hurt. Shuttered and so much darker as they had been not a day ago. 

Something happened and whatever it is, it makes Michael draw his sword on Samael, makes words of hatred fly from his mouth, makes him break a promise he gave. 

She lowers her sword a fraction, eyes finding Samael's and amongst the fresh hurt and disbelieve at Michael s betrayal, trust rises, strong and unwavering. He still believes in her, still has faith she will aid him.  
But the images shift, the more her sword falls to her side. Another future blooms as her will to fight for her brother wavers. One less violent, but filled with a different kind of pain. The kind that sinks in and takes hold, twists and poisons, that can't be soothed away with an explanation and time. A wrong that can't be made right again.  
But,… but they all would be alive.

Alive. All of them. 

Raphael lets her gaze drift to Michael. Blue eyes filled to the brim with pain, they plead with her to do something, anything. Make it right they say.  
She can't, fixing this isn't possible. Either way it ends. The only thing she can do is commit the same crime Michael did and give them all a chance to find a different way. Her gift has shown her that. Insight that has branded itself into her memory and will damn her forever. Whatever future will come true, it's her choice. Her actions, right here, right now, will set it in one direction or the other. 

The weight that settles on her shoulders is almost too much for her to carry. This responsibility shouldn't be in her hands. Has no right to be in her hands. She is not the one that makes choices, not supposed to be anything but a guide and a healer, not even much of a fighter compared to her siblings. Just a scholar with a love for knowledge and the ability to see into the future. Archangel and twin to Samael she might be, powerful yes, just like all of them, but he makes choices. He is the brightest of them all, pure light, the Morningstar, Micheal’s equal partner in leading Heaven. Not her.  
And yet fate lets her dictate the outcome. Lets her write the future. 

Gives her the choice to use this knowledge. Gives her the Freedom to decide. 

_You fall._ It whispers to her, _you all fall._

And Raphael can't. Can't make this choice for herself and still have faith in Father. Still believe in his great plan and his divine knowledge. If she fights, they will all die. If she doesn't, if she stands down now and lets Samael be cast out without protest, they will live.  
Either way, nothing is going to be the same every again. Nothing can convince her that Father has made the right choice here, that the punishment fits the crime. That this is the way to teach Samael a lesson. 

Her Faith should be unwavering, even in this. She is an Angel of the Lord and they might have a version of Free Will, enough to have personalities and character traits, enough for likes and dislikes and opinion of their own. But nothing in Creation can make her choose anything but her siblings life's. And if that takes her standing down now, if it means trust broken forever and the bond between them destroyed beyond repair, if it means her brother's, her twins eternal hatred is what it takes. If it means faith shattered.

Then so, in Creations name, be it. 

Mind made up, Raphael sheaves her sword, raised her head and lets her gaze meet Samael's one last time. Watches with a blank face as trust turns to disbelieve, then to hurt as her actions sink in. Betrayal makes way for anger and the first blossoms of hatred and Raphael clenches her jaw and fights down the raging storm inside through sheer will only. This, it hurts, beyond anything she's ever felt, but her brothers life, her siblings life's rank above. If she can keep them alive she'll gladly suffer the backlash and the pain. The Fall.

 

A flicker of a second is all that it took for Raphael to begin her descend from grace. For unwavering Faith in Father, in Heaven, in everything she knows, everything she's ever believed in to crumble. One short, brief moment in time that plants the spark of true disobedience and has it burst into roaring flames. Has her go from mere follower of her brothers rebellion, loyal to him though not quite believing but seeking the same freedom he is advocating, to stepping onto a path she never foresaw for herself.  
Images keep shifting through her mind, changing and evolving, keep showing her what can be and what will be, but now she see's more than just her siblings surviving. She see's chance and opportunity and crossroads. See's all the possibilities, the maybe and the hope that feeds this new fire in her.

It will never be alright, but somehow, it will be OK in the end.


	2. Awake O' Sleeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Gabriel is a little bit slow on catching on, but when he starts using his brain, well,... realizations happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after a nice and very much unwanted Writers Block decided to take hold of me and wouldn't leave till a few hours ago I finally managed to type out another chapter in this little installment.   
> It didn't really turn out how i hoped it would, but Gabriel is such a doofus to write. Seriously, he kept getting distracted by all the things he missed out on :D
> 
> Thanks for the Comments and Kudo's, they make me happy :)
> 
> Ideas are welcome too, btw^^

Everything changes.

Everyone changes. Maybe it’s evolution affecting immortal beings, maybe it’s just personal growth. Either way, Gabriel watches with uneasy anticipation and wonders where it all tilted so drastically sideways. 

Raphael steps into the spotlight almost seamlessly. Easy transition and no one really notices till it’s done and the mere thought of her not being at Michael's side constantly seems unimaginable. Gabriel marvels at that, the fluid shift of what surely must be a perfectly executed plan. 

It has to be. 

Raphael never was one to stand in the center of attention when she could hide in the shadows and observe instead.  
But Michael has never before broken his word either and look at where they all are now.  
Doing things they never even considered. 

Gabriel never expected Raphael to turn on her twin in the last possible moment. To see her make a choice that goes against everything she is, her very core essence. And it does, he can tell. There is a quiet rage sharpening her eyes nowadays, a storm lying in wake for the right upwinds to unleash it’s power, wild and untamed and it reminds him too much of Samael’s passionate speeches about free will and free choices. Something about how she looks at them all now that carries the same flavor of pity, how she drags her gaze all over them, judging, assessing, expecting betrayal and actively searching for it in every angel’s face.  
No, Gabriel knows Raphael is not happy, is not okay anymore. If he dares to look closer he knows he will find all the damage Samael’s Punishment has caused carefully hidden under that veil of patience and calculation she has clad herself in.  
It’s something they all seem to forget, that while they have lost a brother, Raphael lost her other half and Michael his best friend and Gabriel has a feeling the one that needs forgiving isn’t the fallen brother down below, but the father that cast him out in the first place. 

“The humans have a saying that silent waters are deep” Uriel murmurs one day. They are both watching Michael and Raphael spare, swords clashing and power heavy in the air around them. A clash of will and determination, all confined within the unspoken rules of a simple training fight. It ends in a stalemate.

It always does. 

Michael and Raphael are evenly matched on the battlefield these days and Gabriel can only grip his own sword tighter and pray he never has to choose a side between siblings ever again. Once had been one time too many. History can not repeat itself.

But yes, silent waters are deep and Raphael has been silent for far too long. When once she would have happily spoken her mind, would have engaged any of them in long discussions about her opinions and believes now she only speaks when needed, when Michael has no words for them and glances at her in a silent plea for help.  
Help Raphael always grants, without fail. Because backing up Michael is her job these days. It’s what she does, being his partner in leading Heaven and having his back. 

“They also say that deep vengeance is the daughter of deep silence” he counters eyeing the fast movements of two immortal beings striking with swords at each other without a care for injury with growing worry. Raphael fights like she means it, even in a mock fight, going straight for the kill and only pulling her strikes when Michael can’t defend in time. 

Uriel shakes her head. “No, Raphael is not out for revenge” she turns fully to face him then, a mocking little smile on her face that Gabriel is sure only Samael could have taught her. “Neither of them are, Gabriel.” her eyes are taking on that watery sheen that makes Gabriel all kinds of uncomfortable every time it’s directed at him.. “What they want is their brother back, and they will do whatever it will take to achieve that”

And yes, sometimes Gabriel is a bit slow in the uptake but there is no missing the heavy implication in Uriel’s words, neither the echo of a future pain threatening to fall from her eyes. “You think they would fall for him?After everything?” he can’t imagine it, can’t even say why he made that leap of logic in the first place.

“They already have” Uriel looks like she’s about the burst into waterfalls and Gabriel is sure his awkward petting of her arm isn’t really helping much. Being comforting is not something he ever managed to be good at. But she carries on, keeping her voice low. “They are fallen, they just haven’t left yet” 

Uriel has always been good at voicing all the things Gabriel prefers to bury deep in his mind and forget about. “History can not repeat itself” he finally chooses to say, the only thing he is truly worried about. 

“They won’t let it” Uriel nods at their siblings, still not so mock fighting with powers charging the air around them and wide grins painted on their faces. Truly having fun at beating all kinds of snot out of each other, laughter ringing in between one fight and the next, joking and snarking like they have no worries and no regrets. 

No, they won't, somehow Gabriel knows he can trust in that alone. But what about him, about Uriel? Are they to follow in their sibling's footsteps, to lead Heaven and wait for the time to wear them down too. For something to take their faith and twist it with the same broken determination to right old wrongs?

Gabriel can’t find it in him to even try. He had his chance after Samael and instead of taking action he slunk away into the shadows, like everyone expected Raphael to do. He’s not made for making the hard choices, he can’t face true damnation and still walk the chosen road.  
He has no idea how Raphael does it, how she could tell them that she simply made a choice for the best of them all and plot in the secrets of her mind for the day she won't let her wings carry her weight anymore. 

It’s a small revelation, helped along with Uriel's careful worded conversation, that Raphael chose not between her brother and father, but between the lesser of two evils, even if it brought her the greater pain. That a much worse outcome must have been revealed to her for her to do as she had. 

Gabriel never thought of that either. Of Raphael’s Gift giving her more than just visions of their father’s creations. Could she have seen a future and simply chose to turn and walk a different one?  
Would she use her talent for such a selfish reason?

Yes she would. For her twin Gabriel knows she would and maybe that’s the last puzzle piece he had been missing to make sense of what happened that day. If betraying Samael had been her only option to help him she would have done it. 

 

Yet it’s only later, in the presence of Father that it dawns on him just how much he blinded himself to the truth. Perfect, poster model archangels is what he witnesses and it baffles Gabriel just how easy his siblings slip into the act. How the lies fall like truths from their lips and how Father takes it at face value. But it’s in the few moments when Father doesn’t pay attention to them that the truth lurks through, in hard gazes full of contempt and hurt that’s been left to fester for much too long. In conversations that need no words, but are held with eyes and brief flashes of expressions only. The silent understanding of two who share the same dark secrets and carry the same burdens on their shoulders.

When Michael’s eyes find his they are just as cold as the empty spaces in Creation, just as dark too. With that calm of an abyss better not looked into. Yet Gabriel finds the courage to stare back, to let his eyes speak of his inner turmoil, his growing understanding of events long past.  
And maybe it’s just his imagination fueled by his need not to be left behind and clean up their mess, but he thinks Michael's eyes warm up just a little bit before he turns away again. 

Right then, under Father’s ever watchful eye Gabriel makes a choice of his own. Leading is not his prerogative, he knows that, but he can follow those he trust to do so. History can not repeat itself and he refuses to be the one who enables another betrayal. When they decide to leave Heaven behind, he will follow.


	3. Guilty all the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uriel muses about her siblings, changes and whats to come. She's a smart cookie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops, that went faster than expected. But here it is, Uriel's pondering's.

Uriel is no fool even if she likes to play the role of a scatterbrained artist a lot. It’s a nice and easy way to get out of all the work she doesn’t want to bother with. Seriously, why should she. It’s not her job to herd the thoroughly blissed out and happy souls through the fountain of New Life, sending them off to another life with a pat on the shoulder and a _have fun_ as a goodbye. Isn’t it enough that she welcomes them with a speech and shows them their assigned quarters like some hotel boy that couldn’t find a better job?

Gabriel is supposed to be the one to guide them to a well earned rebirth. But Gabriel is off managing the lower Angel ranks and trying to keep the youngest siblings in line. Which used to be part of Michael’s job, but again Michael is busy with reports meant for Father and keeping the human’s world from sure self inflicted destruction. He barely has time to dish out the punishments that used to be their fallen brothers job or properly patrol the halls like he should, instead of just marching through his routine with his mind too distracted to notice all the rule breaking that’s happening right under his nose. 

And Raphael, she can’t even remember the last time her sister actually stepped foot into the Healers Wing for anything but collecting reports and checking in if her assigned helpers are doing their job properly. Heck, she can’t even recall when Raphael last let the Healer in her take over and spread some comfort and much needed calm. 

They could all use it. 

But Raphael seems to have way too much fun hunting down wayward angels and escaped demons, even the occasional nephilim to bother with the welfare of those entrusted into her care and Michael is taking over Father's role with the same kind of enthusiasm Uriel delivers her welcoming speeches and the only thing Gabriel seems to do these days is teach the younger angels how to not get caught breaking all the rules Michael doesn’t care to enforce anymore. 

Somewhere along the way they all sort of stumbled into this apathetic way of existing. And somewhere in between the boringness and marching to the same tune day in and day out Uriel realized it all started that damned day when Samael decided enough is enough and screwed them all over with his well meant rebellion. 

No, that’s not right.

Laying the blame on her fallen brothers shoulders is something Uriel had done for much too long. He hadn’t been wrong with his reasons. Hadn’t been right about them either. But Father didn’t want to listen and anger was always his greatest flaw. 

But she’s not stupid and not blind either and the way Michael and Raphael handle Heaven and Earth, how they rule with this steady but detached approach, it tells a tale of its own. There’s free will tainting every decision, orders heard with ears open for interpretation and eyes looking for loopholes that no faithful, obedient angel would need.   
And Uriel hasn’t missed how they’ve slowly groomed lower angels to take over. Amenadiel, leading his own little garrison, tasked with handling Hell’s Politics. Ariel taking over the Head Healer’s position with confidence. Chamuel caring for the human souls, soothing their worries and their fears, granting well wishes and blessings, spreading creativity like Uriel used to. Raguel slowly growing into the leader Michael once was, giving orders to his siblings, handing out tasks and duties.   
And last but not least Zadkiel, Raphael’s protegee delivering punishments that once had been Samael’s chore.

Five angels carefully being guided into leading Heaven, taught how to keep Earth turning in the right direction and how to make sure Hell’s fires never stop burning too hot. Step by step replacing the five Archangels that have all fallen in their very own way. Because even if Michael and Raphael think otherwise, even Gabriel and herself have doubted too much to still have faith in Fathers divine plans. Time does that, makes you think and consider, entertain ideas and possibilities and imagine maybe’s and what if’s.  
It might have taken her a long time to see past her own anger, to swallow down the bitter taste of betrayal and acknowledging her own cowardice, but Uriel’s eyes are open now and she see’s that day for what it truly was. The flaw in Father’s Great Plan. That one ugly color that spills over a painting purely by accident, tainting it’s utopian perfection with gritty reality. 

Nothing is perfect without flaws.

Nothing last’s forever.

Not even the immortal life of an Archangel in Heaven. Sooner or later every single one of them will walk through Heaven’s Gates, turning their backs on the Silver City and never look back.   
Though this time at least there will be no grand rebellion, no betrayals and most importantly no order’s so firm that they can’t be ignored from an enraged Father. If there is one thing Uriel learned from watching Michael and Raphael operate with free will coloring their view is that her siblings aren’t going to ask for permission to leave by hitting the wrong notes in the tune they were created to dance to. Oh no, by the time Father bothers to check in with them they’ll all be long gone. 

Trust Raphael to come up with a plan that is utterly devoid of bloodshed. And it’s not like Uriel didn’t figure out what happened to that third of Heaven that sided with her wayward brother. Most thought that the rebels were executed or banished to Hell alongside Lucifer. Some went to Hell, yes, the ones that stood out noticeably, those that couldn’t be smuggled away to Earth under Father’s watchful gaze. With the others it's more of a case of letting them escape when escorted down to Hell. _Of course, everybody is where they should be_ had been Raphael’s confirmation of carrying out her orders. It still rings in Uriel's ears, the steady tone, firm as always, not a hint of dishonesty coloring her being. That was the first time any of them had dared to lie straight into Father's face. It hasn’t been the last.

Uriel still finds it hilarious when one of the human souls calls Lucifer that Father of Lies. Because seriously, she’s watched for eons how Raphael twist the truth so perfectly into what she needs it to be, how Michael manages to craft his answers into the shortest generic statements that are still open for interpretation to consider Lucifer’s version of omitting details and little white lies as anything but harmless.   
Michael can talk circles around any truth with the fewest words possible and you can’t even tell when Raphael lies or when she speaks the truth anymore. There are no tell’s, with either of them, they have Father fooled, that’s how perfectly they have mastered the art.  
It’s terrifying to witness and damning to be aware off. But to uncover their lies is not something Uriel finds she can do. There’s method and reason to it, a goal they are trying to achieve and she might not know the full extend of it, but she doesn’t need to either. All she can do is trust them and hope there won’t be any ugly colors smudging the painting.   
But she has a feeling that Raphael will put those ugly colors to good use and will weave them in to do the least possible damage. 

And if not, well, Uriel is a seasoned artist herself, she has a few tricks up her sleeve too.


	4. Because of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael...and the end of the rope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I had this finished a while ago but didn't really like the feel of it and since I couldn't figure out just what didn't feel "right" I decided to let it rest. Now rereading again after a good few months I actually really like it, so, without further delay, I present Chapter 4

Michael has been walking these halls ever since he came into existence. He knows every dent, every imperfection on the clean marble, every line and every discoloration. The grooves and the cracks, the darkest spots to hide in and the perfect nooks to disappear through.  
He knows every last inch of Heaven better than anything else in Creation. It’s his domain, his to rule over. His to keep on the straight and narrow. 

His to abandon. 

Someday soon. When no amount of sunshine is bright enough to chase away the shadows that have crept into Heaven. When duty and honor stop being enough of a reason to keep him in line and he’ll just flip this place the finger and march out like the rebel he is. 

Well, thought he was. Turns out in the true face of rebellion he wasn’t even allowed to do so much as blink wrongly. With _his_ orders ringing through his being it had been impossible for him to disobey. Stripped of his very self in that very crucial moment, all he had been able to do was submit to the clear, strict orders that had taken hold of him, directing his every move, dictating the words rolling off his tongue and forcing his hand. 

A lesson _he_ had called it later, though Michael is sure the subject taught wasn’t supposed to be Hate. Probably wasn’t even on the lesson plan in the first place. But it’s what he walked away with, this little monster with sharp, pointy teeth that popped into existence the moment Michael realized that his actions weren’t his own, making itself a nice little nest inside him, cozying up with his other emotions and sweet-talking Vengeance and Justice like it had any right to poison his mind with its ideas. 

Somedays he hates that monster more than the one who put it there. On those days Raphael jokes about how he is a very disturbed individual and then manages to brighten his mood by being a disturbed individual herself. Usually by inventing new pranks for Amenadiel to suffer through. Though he kind of deserves it. Michael is sure the only thing holding Amenadiel’s big head up is the stick shoved up his ass.  
Promoting him at least still feels like a mistake. Raphael doesn’t think so. Keeps telling him that he’s perfect for the job and to give him time. 

Just thinking of him seems to summon the proper, no nonsense brother. Michaels suppresses a groan at the mere sight of Amenadiel approaching him. Looks like it’s time for another boring report about the shenanigans in Hell Michael really doesn’t care to hear about.

There are three levels to Michael’s annoyance with Amenadiel: mildly irked, searching for something in his vinctivity to conk him over the head with and, wanting to bash his brothers head into the next available surface till he turns back into the Amenadiel he actually liked. 

He’s hit the second stage the moment Amenadiel started droning on about every little political change in the ranks and potential interesting snippet of gossip he picked up on his weekly visit down below. Michael is eyeing one of Raphael’s bigger books with consideration. It looks heavy enough to put a dent in Amenadiel’s oversized ego. Though that statue of twisted metal that Uriel calls a masterpiece of art and Raphael has dubbed ‘that ugly thing’ sure looks like it could do some serious damage too, also it would be more practical to wield, the bottom part has about the right size to fit in his hand. 

His brothers report stutters to a halt, as if he can sense Michael’s violent thoughts. “...Lucifer is well” he sort of tags on after a moment of eyeing him warily.  
The day he will believe that Lucifer is well in Hell is the day he will forgive Father.  
And he still hates that, the name change and a part of him wants to snarl out that it’s Samael and Amenadiel should have the decency to call his brother by his rightful name, if it wasn’t for the growing understanding that outweighs the outrage. Michael gets it, he really does. Raphael calls him ‘Mike’ sometimes, when they are alone and just wasting time in each others company and he likes how the shortened moniker doesn’t aggravate him as much. How it makes him feel like a proper brother again, no wrongs clinging to it like leeches sucknig out the pride he used to have in his name. It doesn’t remind him of all that happened, all that was done, instead when it so thoughtlessly leaves Raphael’s mouth, so easily passes through her teeth, it's so much gentler, softer than ‘Michael’ will ever sound. Maybe it’s just how she say’s it. Effortlessly, with that small, honest smile that he rarely gets to see these days, that reminds him of the sister underneath the hardened shell. The one that’s all soft and gentle, that cares and isn’t afraid to show it.  
Michael want’s that sister back, not that he doesn’t love the snarky, all around sarcastic attitude, because he does, really, but he hates how it takes hours for her to relax, to calm down and let go of her barriers. He hates that he has to dig through layers of layers to find it.  
Lucifer is light. The Morningstar, Lightbringer, but Raphael used to be the Warmth that goes with it. The Heart even, and it’s that warmth that shines through when she calls him ‘Mike’.

So, yes, he gets it. And if his brother wants to be called Lucifer, the least Michael can do is respect his wishes. 

What he doesn’t get is when and how Amenadiel went from being the fun to be around brother who was always up to some kind of fun to this stoic, rule abiding ball of too sharp to mock feathers. It’s like he woke up one day with a complete personality change and every rule in the book branded into his brain.  
Probably around the same time everything else went to shit too. 

“He’s trying to get your approval back” Uriel tells him the moment Amenadiel is out of hearing range. 

“He should try getting his sense of humor back instead, or his personality in general” he counters snidely, because advice like this he can do without, thank you very much. Especially coming from Uriel who usually hides out somewhere incredibly hard to find to let her creative juices flow uncontrolled.  
And yes, he’s pissed with her too. Always slinking away when shit needs to get done and being everywhere else but where she is supposed to be, pushing the excuse of Art in their faces whenever possible. He’s pissed because he expected better from her, though he could rely on her to take over part of the added workload. Instead he had to split the work of five Archangels between three to keep everything running like the smooth oiled engine it’s supposed to be.

“Or maybe you stop being an asshole and try being a brother for once!” is her angry retort before she stomps off. 

It strikes a cord, but Michael truly doesn’t have the energy for it anymore. Be a brother. He can barely even remember what that means, let alone how to act like it. Maybe that’s why he spends so much time with Raphael instead of any of his other siblings. She doesn’t expect him to be someone else, doesn’t ask him to act like he used to.  
Though she is the only one he told the whole truth about that day, so, maybe it’s just that she understands.

The siblings he is closest with know, not everything, but enough to understand that it hadn’t been his choice. Those farther down the ranks believe the rumors instead. That he is the good son, the one that doesn’t break the rules, duty bound and no fun to be around. “Don’t piss off Michael, he will kick you out”, are the warnings going through the ranks, even the, “Careful, Michael is near, let’s not give him a reason to punish us” and the stories, twisted by time and retellings uncounted. Those are the worst. He most definitely did not drag his brother before Father to be judged! 

 

With a groan he drops into his favorite chair in his quarters, another day over, another day closer the the inevitable. Raphael barely glances up in greeting, leaving through files with the same enthusiasm of a rock asked to jump through hoops, scribbling something down in her planer with that fountain pen she likes so much. Organized and always on top of her oversized workload, he admires that, how she does it. Though watching his chaotic sister making schedules and carrying around a planer as thick as his arm is still a weird sight even eons after she first turned a blank book into a makeshift organizer with only one feather to write in it.  
Nowadays she just goes to Earth to get what she needs. Ink, pens, markers, sticky notes in every possible shape and color. Raphael goes to Earth a lot. All the time. He’s pretty sure she’s doing more than just shopping and getting away from everything on her monthly trips down to those not burdened with immortality, wings and way too many siblings to keep count off. 

The last time he’d took a trip to Earth for anything besides work, was when horses still were the main way to get around and Royalty still ruled the lands. That had been ages ago, around the time Father last checked in on them. 

“I need a vacation” it’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out far more tired sounding than he had intended. 

Raphael just shrugs, not even looking up from her pile of work. “Then take one”

And yes, it’s something they all have done, leaving for a few days, weeks, months even, to breath fresh air with humans instead of angels surrounding them, discovering the beauty of the planet they’re charged to guard and just enjoying time without having to worry about all the things that need to get done.  
Truth be told a mere vacation won’t salvage anything, he’s just so done with this madness, with cleaning up messes not his own and trying to keep the world from falling apart while Father plays in whatever part of Creation he deemed worthy of his attention. Cowardly hiding where Michael can’t go to give him a piece of his mind, to finally rattle of the impressively long list of all the fuck ups, mistakes and every possible wrong decision.  
He’s downright tired of it, how time crawls by, how the boredom chews away at his very being, how everything just blurs into this huge pile of duty and work, how nothing really matters anymore. What he wants is forever away from this place, not just a few weeks or months, not even years, but Raphael is bent over her files with the determination of someone who knows what’s on the line and he can’t bring himself to let her know the true extent of how done he is with Heaven.

As it turns out he doesn’t have to, because Raphael is an awesome sister who knows how to read him even when he doesn’t say a word and so it just happens that his so called vacation starts with him standing in a fully furnished apartment in his new proper human name, Michael Brandt, an envelope full of documents and paperwork in his hand and a smugly smiling Raphael sipping tea on the couch. 

“I can handle Heaven” she winks at him from behind her tea cup, all reassuring and with way too much understanding and compassion on her face that surely isn’t meant to make him feel the extend of guilt it does.  
She’s letting him go, just like that and he’s too grateful for words, feeling that tight knot inside unraveling till he can breath easier again. Raphael is absolving him of his duty, setting him free now, when he’s reached his limit and then pushed it as far as possible. When he’s done all he could and there is nothing left to stretch and no energy to keep going. 

“How’s this going to end?” it’s that one worry still niggling in the back of his mind. The one thing Raphael never answered with anything but humor laced platitudes. 

Raphael drops the twisted grin and squints at her cup with a glower that's impressive. “Hopefully not with a bang” she still manages to joke halfheartedly.

“Raphael” he catches the tail end of something dark passing through her eyes, the kind that leaves shadows behind that have no right to be there. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

The looks she gives him is mix between contemplation and wariness. Like she’s wants to tell him but there are things to consider and reasons good enough to keep her silence. And then a grin spreads over her face, all teeth and challenge and it reminds him so strongly of Lucifer. That damned _I’m bad and I know it_ grin.  
Maybe it’s because he’s free of Heaven’s thrall now, fallen far enough from Grace to see past the plans they’ve made and the future they’re trying to achieve, that one common goal that sparked all of this, right into the fires of Damnation that shine through her eyes.  
Or maybe this is her way of giving him an answer after all. The true extent of the their passive-aggressive rebellion needs no words. 

Michael thinks that that's probably the problem with celestial beings created to serve Father and Heaven only. They are a barren landscape made of Grace and Obedience. Like a planet, empty and devoid of true life. And Free Will is like Nature, something that grows and spreads, filling the emptiness with plants and animals and everything inbetween. Rebellion is the water that feeds it and Intention the rays of sun that keeps it alive. 

It’s Creation. Evolution. Life.

It can’t be stopped. Doesn’t end.

Raphael doesn’t need a single word to tell him that, all she has to do is smile like the devil, like her twin, all untamed passion, lawless and wild, and let him come to the conclusion that there is no real end. 

It can’t end, because the very nature of evolution is that it never ends. Never stops.


	5. Run on, for a long time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the last part of _Forsaken_ since it originally was only a little bunny that wanted to be written. By now it has turned into something more that will be continued in an new installment.   
>  I'm very proud of myself because I rarely manage to finish one of my ideas, let alone post it. 
> 
> For the next part. I am already working on it, can't say when I'll post it, but keep a look out for it.
> 
> And lastly, thank you for the reviews, kudos, and all the subscriptions/bookmarks. It's a great motivator when I get the notice for another one, or check that stats and see the number has risen. So Thank you.

Hell is raining ash and soot on the outskirts and the air burns in her lungs, saturated with sulfur and smoke as it is. She can’t venture into her twin’s domain as much as she craves to confront her brother. There are truth’s he should hear, needs to hear, yet, even if she sends a messenger they would fall on deaf ears.

The Future has become murky at best and completely out of grasp for most of the time, her gift fading more the closer they all get to the point of no return. Hopeful dreams and prophetic visions so similar that she can’t tell one from the other anymore. Soon all she will have to go on is the hope that all her plans, all her little plots, everything she has done will fall into line and open the gates for them all to wander down new roads.

Deep down she is terrified of all the things that could go wrong. Scared shitless of just how it could turn out if she’s not careful. 

Soon Heaven will be just a distant memory and Earth her pit stop for however long she lives. After that, there’s a scalding hot stone throne with her name on it waiting for her.   
Her siblings might be forgiven, but she paved her own personal road to Hell and Father will not hesitate to punish her for it.   
Father will not be merciful when he finds out to what lengths she went to make all this happen. She doesn’t believe her siblings will either. There are lines you don’t cross, even when falling and Raphael has crossed all of them with no care for any laws or rules. 

Long, long ago, before the great split, Mother told her she would grow to be the most dangerous of them all, that she would be the one who outshines them all with her nature.   
And from the moment she lain her gaze on her twin and her heart soared with love it had been clear to her that there was nothing she would not do for him. Her better half.  
Without him to balance and calm the wildfire of raging emotions inside, she had always been damned to fall from the great height that is Heaven all the way down into the deepest pit known as Hell.   
Not strong enough to resist the lure of that soothing darkness she’s been born with, and then, with a little divine intervention from the Universe, she chose to walk that gritty, twisted path, taking all the wrong turns with eyes wide open and full understanding.   
For her, naive innocence had never been an option, the gift she’d been blessed with assuring that cause, action and reaction are the basis of her understanding of Creation.   
It’s a curse, one that finally seems to have run out the farther away from angelic her nature becomes. A relieve to be free of the ever consuming truths she could do without, all those secrets better left unknown and forgotten. All those mistakes she couldn’t prevent, all of her warnings that fell on deaf ears and ignorant minds. 

Father knows best and if he doesn’t, well, he still maintains the illusion that all is as intended. And she tried, so hard, to be heard, giving advice and offering different opinions only to be shot down, laughed at and belittled for it. She fought against the destiny shown to her with all her might, trying to prevent the worst outcome. But no matter if she turned left instead of right, if she opened other doors and locked the dangerous ones, in the end it hadn’t been enough to keep Samael by her side.   
Till that fateful day, when one grand vision had unleashed Free Will and she’d stopped trying to be heard and started taking action herself. 

Mother would be proud. Or not, truly it depends on what version Raphael decides to base her reaction off. The Mother of her younger years, all soft and gentle, caring and loving as a mother should be, or the cold apathetic Goddess that hadn’t even bothered to pay attention to the son in dire need of a helping hand. 

Though that again had been another slow rolling boulder that had rumbled down without anyone being aware of the final result. Of a mother’s heart turning to stone under the neglecting hands of the one she had entrusted it in.   
Raphael hadn’t even noticed her there that day, only having eyes for the scene before her and not caring about who is lurking on the sidelines. 

It hadn’t mattered either. Mother hadn’t bothered to do anything at all for a long time and they’d all gotten used to not even noticing her presence. 

And now Raphael is staring at the eroding chain links on a vault door made of heavenly steel, right here on the edge of Hell and the brewing vortex of power that is shining through the little window and all she can do is wonder how this will affect the future she’s sacrificing everything for. 

Thankfully her siblings are safe.

She’s always known Michael would be the first the leave the nest that is Heaven, but it’s sort of funny, in a tragic way, how Uriel and Gabriel both followed within the span of a few human years. Like they’ve just been waiting for proof that Father’s Wrath won’t rain down on them the moment they leave. 

She dumped Uriel in a nice little village somewhere in France. The kind that has the perfect scenery, the right vibe to the old buildings and friendly people who don’t blink twice when there’s an artist in their midst that gets lost in her work for days, weeks even and then emerges with paint smudges still on her clothes and a satisfied smile to do some grocery shopping and mingling with her neighbors. Uriel loves it and Raphael makes sure her sister's bank account never runs dry. Supplies are expensive she’s been told. 

Gabriel last’s a few months longer but one day he comes up to her with that lost puppy look that is equally adorable and disturbing and she dragged him off to this nice, peaceful town she knows off, somewhere in the Midwest, that’s in dire need of a proper elementary school teacher. Gabriel loves teaching, so she handed him all he needed to start his new life, ordered him to not worry and leaves before the moment can get too awkward. 

At least with her siblings safe from being found there is one less thing to worry about, Raphael herself remained in Heaven only long enough to make sure none of the designated new leaders fail at their tasks. 

Now she’s clinging onto the last slips of Grace with stubborn determination only, confronted with the proverbial wedge in all of her plans without a single idea on how to fix it.   
Those chains won’t last much longer, one or two decades at the most and then...all Hell will break loose. 

It’s a shitstorm of epic proportions that is brewing behind the Emporyan steel doors, the being contained behind enraged and unpredictable, a wildcard that Raphael has no way of predicting. 

“This is not good” a voice intones behind her. Stating the obvious with blank sarcasm. It’s Belial, the demon who has enough screws loose to go along with her crazy schemes and became a friend somewhere in between time.

“Nah, it’s not”

He lines up with her, shoulder to shoulder and inspects the sealed vault with the same mild curiosity he always displays. Head tilted to the side, with a small frown and that glimmer of twisted humor dancing in his amber eyes. 

“So… what do we do?”, like always, wanting to know the course of action Raphael is going to take and his part in it. For a demon he is either very trusting or batshit insane. Another thing she can’t really decide on. 

“There is nothing we can do” because archangel or not, the kind of power it takes to fix the seal and it’s visible representation of chains is far beyond her. Only Father could. 

“What, you’re just going to let happen whatever happens?” yes, she can’t believe it either. But there is literally nothing she could do and as much as it irks her, as much as she wants to prevent this particular thing from happening. It is out of her hands. 

This is either Father’s intention, or another one of his mistakes. 

Gritting her jaws together she turns to her demonic friend. “In this case, yes. The only thing we can do is prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”

“Awesome” he grins.

Raphael rolls her eyes. 

 

+

Belial is a good friend. Maybe the best even. He’s the kind that would bail you out of trouble, if he wasn’t right smack in the middle of it, at your side. 

He’s the only one Raphael trust with a sword of Emporyan Steel, a sword that can kill her and not worry about him stabbing her in the back. He’s proven himself enough for her to hand it over for this one unforgivable task.

Mazikeen has those little knives of hers, but they are by far less dangerous than the blade in Belial’s hands, currently raised above his head to gain the greatest momentum, while she is on her knees, head firmly between them and her wings stretched towards Heaven. 

This is going to hurt. A lot.

But it needs to be done. Her siblings are well protected, unplottable and hidden from Heaven, Hell and anything in between. Raphael alone knows their locations and could reveal it. The only one that can still be found.   
Not for much longer. Without her wings she’s one step closer to resembling an ordinary human and as good as impossible to be found. 

The sword falls, parts skin and flesh, slices through bone and for a blissful short moment it’s shocked numbness before her world is on fire. No warning, no chances given to change her mind.   
Belial knows her well enough to not question her if she is sure. Instead, scalding hot hell fire leaps from his fingers and seals the wounds, then his arms wrap around her, comforting and anchoring and pulling her close. 

Later only the imprint of her wings on scorched stone remains. That, and a single feather Belial rescued from the flames with an impish grin and the reminder to always have a backup plan falling from his lips. 

Raphael lets him keep it, like all the others he has swindled away over the eons. Hoarding them like a dragon hoards his treasure in it’s cave. 

He’s sentimental like that. And backup plans are always good to have.

**Author's Note:**

> Chances are that there will be more to this. Ideas are welcome :)


End file.
